


somebody to (you)

by ibuiltthesunforyou



Category: Charlie's Angels (2019), Charlie's Angels (Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/F, this is really gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 21:20:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21645544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibuiltthesunforyou/pseuds/ibuiltthesunforyou
Summary: "before rebekah could even recognize what she’d done, she saw the neat scrawls of numbers across her wrist. The sight was so juvenile. It reminded her of beth harris in grade 7, writing her parent’s phone number across rebekah’s knuckles. Then, it’d made her stomach do a somersault. And now, 30 years later, it felt the same. With a brief kiss to rebekah’s cheek, elena walked down cranberry st. and got swallowed up into a cab, and rebekah had to stop herself from tracking it. because that would just be weird, right?"canon divergent: what if bosley already knew elena?
Relationships: Elena Houghlin/Rebekah Bosley
Comments: 29
Kudos: 239





	1. Chapter 1

_ Lonely.  _

Rebekah pondered what that meant as she nursed some combination of a soda and a liquor that made her throat burn. She wasn’t, alone, per say. More uninterested than anything. She didn’t mean to be, especially with her trainees, she tried to be open. She tried to be a role model to young, strong women that could depend on her. But outside of Townsend Agency, she was  _ bored _ . 

Bored, in fact, with the girl who had stormed out hours before because Rebekah was staring off into the distance, like she usually did. When Kimberly had first met her, her hair singed from the explosion behind them, she thought Bosley was wise, and beautiful. When they sat together Kimberly assumed Rebekah had her mind full of thoughts that were too much for Kimberly to know for now. Like Edward, from Twilight. But now, she must’ve learned enough to realize it wasn’t that Rebekah was busy thinking. She was busy not thinking about Kimberly. But ironically, much like in Twilight, Kimberly dropped a monologue before she left, about how she deserved more, and that Rebekah would be lonely without her, and regret this. Bosley heard half of it. 

She did pick up that one word. Lonely. Was she lonely? She was constantly surrounded, she had Saint, colleagues that knew her better than anyone. She was successful. But once again, she was bored. 

Her eyes were affixed to a girl across the bar, small in frame, with tan skin and eyes like a newborn deer. She’d come in a little bit after Kimberly’s exit, glancing around with a mix of curiosity and caution. And something about her struck Bosley with interest. Maybe it was **just** the mix of innocence and beauty, but hell. Rebekah had all night to find out. 

After watching the girl order nothing but a cup of cherries and a sprite, she set her glass on the drink mat and moved to the other side of the bar. 

What she really didn’t anticipate was almost getting hit in the face when she made the mistake of sneaking up on the girl. She caught her forearm an inch from her face, waiting for another move. Leave it to her to pick someone that had her as a target. 

But there wasn’t another move, only a terrified expression on the girl’s face. 

“I’m so sorry.” It was that, or at least a variation of that as she babbled, jumping back from Bosley and against the counter, still in her seat.

“Not the reaction I usually get from women, but hey, everyone’s different.” She flashed a grin and the other girl seemed to relax slightly, still red with embarrassment. 

“I’m so sorry — I do Krav Maga on Sundays and I keep trying to fight people. It’s a problem.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with a girl who knows how to defend herself.” Rebekah leaned up against the counter next to where the girl was sitting, holding out her hand to shake. “Rebekah.”

“Elena.” The brunette said in a breath, a smile spreading over her cheeks. Her hand shake was firm, which Rebekah didn’t expect, and it was nice to not be right for once

“So, Elena, considering you almost killed me with Krav Maga, can I buy you a drink..” She trailed off, glancing at the empty cup next to a napkin of cherry stems. “Or some cherries?” 

“Shouldn’t I be the one offering that?” 

“That’s a good point.” Rebekah moved up to the chair beside her, signaling to Frankie for their respective orders. “You come here often?” Her voice was lined with joking at the cliche, but Elena didn’t seem to catch it. 

“Yeah, I do.” She looked like she’d been plucked straight out of a Disney film, those wide eyes pulling off of Rebekah when she heard Frank set down her cherries. “It’s a nice place, and I like to people watch. Try and guess why they’re here.” There was a cherry between her lips when she glanced back at the blonde and she almost drops it. She’s expecting her to be looking, but not with the intensity of a stoner looking at a Jack in the Box. 

“People watch, huh? What do you think of…” Rebekah trailed off, leaning on the counter to catch something interesting. Her eyes settled on a man sitting at a booth, his head down in a book. “That guy, brown jacket.” 

It took a minute for Elena to follow her eyes, finding the man. Her eyebrows furrowed. “He’s been here for a little bit, he has a couple glasses.”

“And?” 

“Um..” Elena moves up, straining a little bit for a view. “Not from here, he’s wearing clothes that are too warm for a local. He’s reading some sort of poetry book. Maybe a writer? Doing exactly what we’re doing?... he looks sad. Like he’s lost something.” 

“Close.” Rebekah says, making Elena turn to look at her. The blonde made it sound like a test she could be failing, and other than her anal need to pass with flying colors, she felt ashamed to have missed a mark. 

“What?”

“You’re right on all but one.” 

“And how do you know that?”

Rebekah turned towards Elena, a cherry stem hanging from her teeth the only thin dimming her smile. “I have my ways.” 

“Okay.” Elena was still confused as she turned back to look at the man, suddenly enveloped in what he was doing. She was usually right. Or at least she thought she was. “So?” She asked after a moment of silence. 

“He’s not a writer. But he loves one. The name on his tab matches the dedication page.”

“And how would you know that?” Elena said, with a laugh that was only half disbelieving. 

“Because I’ve read it. And because he’s been staring at the page for the past 20 minutes.”

“What’s the book about?” 

“It’s just poetry. Words jumbled together to make some sort of meaning.”   
  


“Isn’t that what all words are?”

“ _ Exactly _ .” 

“What kind of poetry?”

“All I remember is something about brown eyes being like a muddy river. Then I closed the book.” Rebekah looked over, making a bit of a show to see Elena’s eyes. “Yours are nothing like a muddy river.” 

“Wow, what a compliment.” Elena says, leaning on her hand to look at Rebekah. “So what do they look like?” 

The blonde reached over and stole one of Elena’s cherries, looking at her for a moment. “Honey.” 

  
  


And the rest of the night, at least until Frankie kicked them out 20 minutes past closing, they continued to talk. It wasn’t anything important. It was people watching, and filling time, falling into a rhythm of debate and challenge, and stupid, stupid knock knock jokes that almost tugged a laugh from Rebekah’s chest.

“Hey.” She said, catching the girl’s hand when the fork in the road was whether to go right or left immediately after exiting the bar. Their fingers tangle, and when Elena turns around, she doesn’t pull her hand away, instead, letting their hands fall between them, her other hand tucking her black hair behind her ear. “You should see the Natural History Museum while you’re back in New York.”

“I should?” 

“Yeah. And you should let me take you.”

“Hmm.” Elena hummed slightly, reaching in her bag as she raised Rebekah’s hand, exposing her wrist. “If you still want to take me when you’re sober, call me.” 

Before Rebekah could even recognize what she’d done, she saw the neat scrawls of numbers across her wrist. The sight was so juvenile. It reminded her of Beth Harris in grade 7, writing her parent’s phone number across Rebekah’s knuckles. Then, it’d made her stomach do a somersault. And now, 30 years later, it felt the same. With a brief kiss to Rebekah’s cheek, Elena walked down Cranberry St. and got swallowed up into a cab, and Rebekah had to stop herself from tracking it. Because that would just be weird, right?

When she calls the number, it picks up voicemail first. She doesn’t leave a message, instead choosing to set down the phone and busy herself with paperwork, phone calls, and not picking up the phone again. 

But it only took her half an hour to pick it back up and call one more time. This time, it barely gets the time to ring once. “Hello?” Came a voice over the call, sounding slightly out of breath. 

“Hi.” Rebekah’s fingers mess with the box of recipes sent over from a few recruits, thumbing the paper to keep her hand busy. “Could I speak with Elena?” 

“ _ Yes _ . Yes you can. Yes. Hi. This is Rebekah right?”

The blonde lets out a chuckle, her eyebrows furrowing as she leaned against her kitchen table. “Yes, it’s Rebekah. Are you running a marathon?” 

A laugh comes thru the phone, followed by a muffled cough as Elena pushed her face into her shoulder for a moment. “No, I wasn’t. I ran from the Subway.”   
  


“Just really excited to see New York again?”   
  


There was a moment of silence, then a slightly sheepish voice. “I left my phone at the bar, and I knew you might be calling me so..” 

Imagining this girl, running through the streets of New York made Rebekah almost burst out in laughter, her teeth catching her lips to press the sound down. The laughs wrapped around her words, sneaking out as she spoke. “That’s ... actually very cute.” 

There’s a laugh through the phone and a little bit of static as Rebekah hears the telltale sound of a conversation with a cabbie. After a second, she gets a response. 

“So did you call to make fun of me, or did you have something to ask me?” Elena sounds bold, but not in a way that could be considered hard. Her words still sound like the could be bouncing on a cloud in some mediocre sing-along show. 

“I do, actually.” 

“So? Shoot!”

“Elena.”

“Yes, Beka.”

“Would you like to go out with me while you’re in New York?”

“I would very much enjoy that.” There’s a silence taken up by Rebekah’s smile until Elena speaks again. “You mean on a date, right?”

This time, she laughs. “Yes, Elena. On a date.” 

______________________________________

She gets Elena’s address in a text a little bit after they get off the phone. It popped up about the moment Rebekah read that they’d been on it for 2 hours. It left her about an hour to get ready, and she’s thankful for  _ once _ that her Angels are on missions she can’t help with. 

When she finally settles on a blouse and jeans, she grabs a tan belt that accentuated her hips and helped her seduce a Russian mob boss in Belgium. Good times. Rebekah grabs her purse and decides to walk rather than take a taxi. It’s just 10 minutes on the Subway, and maybe fresh air would help the slightly foggy feeling in her brain. She rationalizes that it’s probably just from the 3 cups of coffee she drank. And it was. But it was also because of Elena. 

And that fog? It only gets thicker when Elena steps out of her parents' apartment in a white tank, a black skirt, and an adorably big denim jacket. 

She could’ve gone blind after just an hour in the museum. Whether it was the way Elena hung off her arm, or the feeling of her leaning up to whisper little things in her ear about the lifespan of mosquitoes, or how the turtle display kind of looked like Yoda. 

“Are you always like this?” She asks, after a few quiet moments, rounding the corner of an exhibit. 

“Like what?” Elena answers absentmindedly, looking up at the descriptions etched into the wall. 

“Perfect.”

The brunette stops in place at that, making the other woman turn to see her. Rebekah’s face wasn’t angry, just calm, and composed. And that’s the exact opposite of how Elena felt. Since the first moment she saw Rebekah her heart had been beating out of her chest. That was most likely because of the could-be-attack, but even after she knew she was safe, her heart wouldn’t stop trying to escape her ribcage to get closer. So from that moment, she decided to just hold on tight. She was only back in New York for the weekend, anyway. 

Beka made her feel like she was both falling through the floor, and floating. A walking paradox with red lips and - Elena couldn’t really think past those, actually. The praise made something tick inside her, warmth spreading across her stomach. “Me? Look at you.” Her words sounded breathy, swallowing a weak laugh as she let herself look at Rebekah. Really, really look, under the bright lights of the museum. And somehow, she looked even more beautiful than by the light of the moon. “You look,  _ amazing _ .” Her eyes gave away how much she meant it. 

The blonde closed the small space between them, the corners of her lips pressing up. “And you look beautiful.” Her hand reached out to brush Elena’s hair from her eyes. 

“You feel amazing.” This is said quieter, as Elena her cheek leans into her hand. Rebekah feels fingers tangle in her blouse, pulling her the slightest bit closer. The words are said with the slightest bit of caution, and a little bit of blush, but a smile that matches Rebekah’s. “I know that sounds weird but —” 

Rebekah cuts her off with a soft, barely there kiss, decided for in a second, and gone just as quickly. “It doesn’t.” Her eyes linger on Elena’s, and she’s the farthest thing from bored. In fact, her mind is spinning with a million different possibilities. The one they land on, together, is taking their time getting lost in the museum, going through the exhibits like levels, gaining things along the way. By the time they finish, Elena’s pulled Rebekah into a kiss that is anything but quick, and is only allowed due to the isolated corner they find. 

________________________________________

“Hey.” Rebekah catches Elena’s hand, much like the night they met, which was a whole 4 days ago. But they touch each other like lovers that had been together for years. “Use the house. Please. Even just for a night. I don’t like the idea of you in an apartment all by yourself.” 

“You know what would be wonderful motivation? You being there with me.” Elena’s arms are already wound around Rebekah’s neck, pressing a butterfly kiss on her lips. 

“I’ll be there soon, I promise. You’ll see me sooner than you know.” 

“You better.” 

Rebekah smiles, and kisses Elena one last time. Her arms wrapped around the girl make her wonder how she ever lived with them being so empty before. 

Yes, it was sudden. Yes, Rebekah had only learned Elena’s middle name the night before, and wasn’t fully sure on the spelling of her last name. But there was something sparking between them that made them both feel like they were hooked up to a battery, so why not just let something happen for once. 

“Soon. You promise.” Elena says as she starts pulling away, letting their fingers stay twined till the last moment. 

“I promise.” Rebekah said with a fake exasperation, feeling her hand fall once Elena got too far away, pulling her suitcase and 100% not looking where she was going because instead of looking towards the airport, she was looking at Rebekah. 

But they’d be together soon. Much sooner than either of them knew. 

  
  


_____________________________________ 

Rebekah barely has the chance to read through the files once she gets back to Germany. She doesn’t even have the chance to check her personal safehouse to see if there might be someone waiting there for her. From the moment she touched down she was cleaning up messes, and speeding down the country roads to pick up her Angels. She knows they have a civilian, one that Charlie has an interest in, but she barely had the chance to read through the details. When she pulls up, she steps out, her words leaving her lips by habit. “Charlie sends love, Angels.” Her eyes find Sabina and Jane. Sabina is, well, Sabina. Normal, chaotic but also strangely calm. Then, they fall on Jane. “The man you met was named Edgar Dessange.”

Through the static of her own grief, she hears Jane say “Edgar” in a soft, sad voice and feels a pang of hurt for the girl. Still so young. Their industry had a way of destroying you from the inside out if you let it. So when Jane pulls back from a hug, professing she doesn’t need it, much like the first time they met, Rebekah does it anyway. “Well I do. He was my friend too.” 

When she pulls back, she’s ready to introduce herself, to go into a small spiel to get this frightened little thing back to the safe house, that is, until she turns around. And all Bosley sees is honey. 

“Beka?” Elena’s eyes are stained red, her skin pale and washed out. The only reason Rebekah doesn’t run to grab her is because her knees don’t work. Her two worlds crash into each other as Sabina furrows her eyebrows, looking at Jane.

“Beka? Bos what-”

Within a moment, Elena is wrapped around her, her head buried into her neck, fingers fisting into her clothes. In Elena’s mind, distraught, tired, and confused, she doesn’t question why her Beka is here. She’s here to keep her safe. Just like she’s been doing with her texts and her phone calls, and the still fading marks on her skin. 

She can’t stop herself from putting her arms around Elena, her eyes finding the utterly confused faces of Jane and Sabina staring at her like she’d — well, looking at her exactly like they would when a new informant rushes into their boss’ arms.

“Bosley, what’s going on?” 

Elena doesn’t pull back, it doesn’t even seem like she’s listening. In another situation, she would be questioning every last thing, but if Rebekah was there, it meant things would probably be okay.” 

“Let’s go.” She says, ignoring their questions, and picking Elena up, moving towards the car. 

____________________________________

By the time they got to the outpost, Elena was asleep in the backseat next to Sabina. The Angel was watching her curiously, listening in to the conversation between Jane and Bosley. It didn’t go far, mostly short answers from Bosley, and the glances to the back seat that only caused more confusion. This was the first time they’d ever seen Bosley slightly shaken, and it was weird for them. 

They don’t go to Saint right away, helping Elena to lay on one of the couches in the living room. Bosley disappeared once she confirmed Elena to be asleep, and Jane and Sabina were left with the sleeping girl. 

“What do you think?” Sabina asked, leaning over the girl to look at her face. 

“About what?” Jane asked, moving to put her weapons case back in order. She didn’t know how to feel other than numb. This extra piece of the puzzle? It was just too much. She couldn’t handle another facet. As much as she was fearless, and could take anything, this just didn’t seem important compared to the weight in her chest.

“Who the hell this is?”   
  


“If we needed that information, we’d have it.” 

“That’s bullshit. I just found out we have a healthcare plan. They don’t tell us shit.” 

“Sabina. I don’t know. Alright? I don’t know and I frankly don’t care.”

“Wake up on the wrong side of the pond today?...get it? Cos you did?” Jane’s glare was enough to make Sabina retreat, at least just long enough to get changed.

The taller girl remained in the common room, taking her time cleaning things. She didn’t want to go to the armory just yet, just wanted to stay still and fix something she could control. Jane had no idea how much time had passed when she saw Bosley walk in out of the corner of her eye, the blonde’s arms wrapped around herself. She turned to look, to ask a question, but Bosley didn’t even seem to register she was in the room as she took a few steps towards the couch. Rebekah kneeled next to the couch, moving to brush ragged strands of dark hair away from Elena’s face. Jane couldn’t hear the exact words, but she saw Elena’s eyes flutter open, and watched the girl’s lower lip start to quiver. Barely, she heard. “It’s okay **baby**. Everything’s okay.” And watched Bosley, their Bosley, kiss the girl’s forehead and wrap her arms around her. 

Elena barely heard the words either. All she could think of was bullet shells, and loud noises, and almost dying. All she could think of is loud, and scary, until opening her eyes to see her own,  _ personal  _ angel. Her body had shut down for some self preservational sleep, she woke up to a soft touch to her cheek that made her flinch. 

And when she saw Rebekah? She could feel every single bad thing flood her system. It was like it was all being held in, like a rock strangling a limb, and once all the blood was released, all the pain spread.

And Rebekah had never wanted to kill anything so badly as the people who had attacked them.

The last time Jane saw Bosley, until morning, was as she watched her carry Elena to her own personal room.


	2. look at me now, i'm falling

When Elena woke up, all she could feel was warmth. She was keenly aware of hot breath against her neck and pressure all over. Any other time, she may have felt smothered. But not with the smell of Rebekah’s perfume enveloping her. 

The night before was blurry, and there was a lot of crying that left Elena’s face swollen and achy. But she remembered Rebekah kissing her bruises. 

Their bare legs were twisted together under the blankets, Rebekah’s arms tight around her middle even in sleep, and she let out a shaky breath as her hands threaded into messy blonde hair. Nothing made sense except the steady rhythm of Rebekah’s breaths against her skin, and the rise and fall of their chests. 

Elena was very aware that she was naked except for a t-shirt, which was bunched up right below her chest. A sleepy, buried part of her thought vaguely she wouldn’t mind being completely naked under Rebekah, exposed and helpless. 

She got lost in that for a few moments, her eyes falling shut, lips nuzzling into the side of Rebekah’s face. So lost, in fact, she didn’t hear the door open. 

Elena didn’t hear the bleach blonde girl peek inside the room, sneaking into their private moment. But Bosley did. Rebekah pushed up out of a dead sleep, Elena’s whimpered protest filling the air before she realized why, both of their eyes going to the door. 

And to her credit, Sabina stopped herself from saying “that’s so hot” and just gulped a little. Restraint learned from years of spy training.

“Yes, Sabina?” Bosley asked in a quiet, but stern voice, taken away slightly by the husk in her voice from sleeping. Sabina couldn’t take her eyes from Elena, the small girl looking even smaller as she curled into Boz, her hands fisted in the woman’s shirt. She was still looking at Sabina, but her eyes were big and confused. 

“I uh- I don’t remember.” Sabina deadpanned. 

Bosley let out a sigh, letting herself fall back down to her elbows. “I’ll be out in 30 minutes.” She said, her voice softer, sounding tired. As she came closer, Elena forgot her gaze with Sabina, her entire form focused entirely on Rebekah. Her big brown eyes earned a kiss on her forehead from Rebekah, and that earned a small, precious smile on Elena’s lips. And now, Sabina really did feel like she was intruding. She slipped out without them noticing, except for the door closing. 

She made the walk from Bosley’s bedroom to the kitchen in what felt like a second. Maybe because she was sprinting. “JANE.” 

As usual, she was much too loud and Jane clenched her jaw in response, her hand going over her tired eyes. “Yes, Sabina.” 

“Bosley’s got a girlfriend!” 

“She-”

“They were being gay together! Cuddling and lesbianing together. It looked like softcore tbh, but, like. Wow.  _ Bosley _ ? If I would’ve known I would’ve barked up that tree way more.” 

Rooms down from Jane’s annoyance, and maybe a little bit of jealousy, Rebekah was performing the herculean task of pulling herself from Elena’s now sleeping arms, and dragging herself to the shower. Her clothes were left in a pile by the door when she stepped inside, letting the almost burning hot water fall over her hair. The thought of leaving this room, of stepping out and admitting that someone tried to kill Elena, and that they all had to go out and fix it — it was almost too much. 

A hot shower, some coffee, and a well placed blazer would fix it. But right now? She let herself feel it. The worry had enveloped her, the drop in her stomach when she’d seen how utterly wrecked Elena was, the thoughts of letting her _ perfect thing _ out into the world. 

But part of the reason she... liked (not loved, right?)... Elena, was because she was strong. Not physically, and not the kind of strong that is a front put up as a protection. This was strength from the inside out, radiating through her softness. She would be okay. They would be okay. 

Almost to punctuate Rebekah’s thoughts, the blonde felt hands press into her sides, the other woman’s body pressing against her back, her chin resting carefully on Bosley’s shoulder. “Hey there.” Elena said quietly, loosely tangling her fingers, her hands splaying over Bosley’s stomach. “So you’re a spy, huh?” 

That made Rebekah laugh. Deep, radiating laughs that made them both shake. “I guess I am.” She replied after a second, her hands covering Elena’s. 

“Hmm.” Elena hummed, letting her lips move across the woman’s shoulder. “I knew I was right.”

….

“ _ What _ ?” Rebekah turned in Elena’s arms, meeting a smile and bright brown eyes. “You-”

Elena looked downright smug. “I didn’t know what kind of spy. But you have a vibe. But I was completely on it about just one thing.” 

“And what’s that?”

“That you’re an angel.” That dopey grin made all the pressure fade from Bosley’s muscles, and she was only a little sad to wipe it off Elena’s lips with a kiss. 

Bosley got dressed quickly, picking out an outfit straight out of Vogue so quickly it scrambled Elena’s head a little bit. Elena replaced her clothes with Bosley’s discarded ones from the shower, happy to be completely enveloped in the smell of roses. 

“And now, you.” 

“Me?” Elena furrowed her eyebrows until Rebekah gestured to her clothes. “Oh, I’m okay in this. Really.” 

Bosley took a few steps to where she was sitting on the bed, resting her thumb and forefinger on Elena’s chin, tipping her head up slightly. Elena couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through her body at the motion, but really, could anyone? “You can wear that tonight. Today, you’re part of the mission. As cute as you look in my clothes.” There’s a kiss that makes Elena feel like she could melt, and she nods softly. “You have a couple hours to look through the closets, Sabina and Jane will help you.”

“I’m raiding their closets?” Elean asked, suddenly feeling anxious about how that might make the other girl’s feel.

Rebekah laughed. “Oh, baby. You have no idea.” 

When Rebekah left them in the closet, Elena felt like she was in wonderland. Her eyes almost bulged out of her head when they told her she was only in the first. 

Saint was busy explaining things, and smacking Elena’s hand away from a few potential explosives, but Elena could feel a distinct pair of eyes on the back of her head. Sabina seemed to be enjoying herself, peppering in little breadcrumbs of her wit. It wasn’t until they were alone, gathering the last few accessories, that Jane spoke up. 

“So how do you know Bosley?”

“Bosley- Oh, Beka.” There was a vague conversation last night about how Bosley was a rank, and that’s what she was called here. But it took a moment to register under Jane’s almost glare. 

She felt sheepish, like a schoolgirl as her eyes dropped, focusing on tying up her boots. “We met when I was home a few weeks ago.”

“In what capacity?” 

“Capacity? Uh, the dating kind?”

“ **I TOLD YOU**.” Sabina’s shout made Jane’s suspicious glare turn on her. “C’mon, J, leave her alone.”

“You don’t think it’s strange at all, that they meet, randomly, and suddenly she’s at the center of a mission that includes a device that could wipe out millions?” 

“Hey.” Elena meant to speak up in defense, but her words came out soft at first, suddenly feeling scrutinized. “I’m not- there wasn’t any motive when I met,” She stopped herself. She wasn’t just her Rebekah here. But that made sense. Rebekah couldn’t be  _ ‘just’ _ anything. She was so much more than anything Elena could imagine. “Bosley. If that’s what you mean. I didn’t even know what she did.” 

She dropped her hands from her shoes, letting out a breath. “I don’t know anything more than you two. Other than Calisto needs to be stopped, and I really, really want to help.”

Elena was met with silence, Jane’s arms still folded across her frame. 

“I’m not out to do anything but make this right.”

“Then make it right.” Jane’s words were dismissive as she grabbed her things and slipped out the door without them, leaving Elena feeling stress creep up her sleeves. 

“Don’t worry about her.” Sabina quipped. “She’s just mad you got there first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks a bunch for @lesbiansandpuns and @asstrid 's help on the Good Morning Charlie discord, love ya'll
> 
> chapter and work title from "somebody to you" by the vamps


	3. Chapter 3

Plans seemed to come so easily to Bosley, it was part of the reason she was a shoe in to be the first Angel turned Bosley. But now? It felt like high school algebra when they suddenly started throwing letters in. It was like all the maps and algorithms and plans were floating around her head, overwhelming her. Her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose. 

Things were already out of sorts, they were behind the schedule that Rebekah had envisioned for this. They hadn’t even stepped foot near Brok Industries, and rather than regrouping at the safe house, her own muddled feelings led them to the outpost. It had just felt like the right plan. The right idea to get all of them — but especially Elena inside the city, with contacts, and concrete walls and lots and lots of guns. 

Twenty four hours had been wasted and as Rebekah looked up at the multitude of screens in front of her, she couldn’t help but let her frustration rise to the surface, something that usually laid buried in her endless composure. She threw the tablet onto the couch, digging her hands through her hair. Some part of her, deep down, wondered if this was just some sort of horrible idea. Wondered if she should find another Bosley to do this job, to keep things in line. But selfishly, she couldn’t imagine not being on the front lines. Not knowing if Jane or Sabina were safe — and losing contact with Elena didn’t make her feel too good either. 

She could handle this. She’d stopped the world ending more than a few times. The addition of a girl shouldn’t mess things up. Not even a beautiful, sweet, adorable one. 

_ Ugh. _

Her head tipped back on the couch and let her eyes shut for a moment. 

The world was still, for just a moment, until the cushion under her shifted, moving due to the person sitting next to her. She didn’t know who, until she felt a soft touch to her hand. Cautious, but confident enough to persist even as Rebekah remained still. After a moment, she let her hand fall open, and felt Elena’s fingers twine in hers. 

“So…” She heard the girl start. “You know what they don’t show in the movies? The supply of pantihose needed for lady spies.” There was a soft laugh, but it was a little forced. She couldn’t help but pick up on the woman’s energy. 

There’s silence that hangs between them until Rebekah turns her head, her eyes opening to land on the girl. “You know,” She starts, watching Elena’s head lull back against the couch to be in her eye line. “You complicate things.” 

Elene’s eyebrows rose for a second, feeling a bite of anxiety before Rebekah squeezed her hand. “Because everytime I try and make a plan, all I can think about is how I don’t want you more than a foot away from me.” 

Elena’s cheeks flush, a smile pulling up on her lips. 

“As sweet as that is, we’re in this together, all of us. And I want to help.”

“So running away to Nice isn’t an option?” 

Elena leaned forward, pressing a soft, careful kiss to Rebekah’s lips. “Maybe after, when this is all over.” 

Rebekah let out a sigh, her eyes still shut from the kiss. “Okay.” She sighed out, before straightening up and taking the tablet from Elena.

“Can you think of anyone at Brok that would gain from this? That would want anyone who knew about it out of the way?” 

Elena thought for a moment, going through the few possibilities. Most of the people she worked with genuinely believed in the project. 

“I-.. I really don’t know.”

“You said you tried to tell someone, and they shrugged it off. Who was that?”

“Flemming, but- he barely knows anything about the project, he’s -“

“Got him.”

“What?”

When Elena looked up at the TV, she saw her former boss crossing border control, that same smug look on his face. 

“Flemming? He tried to get me killed? But he flirted with me.”

“Babygirl, men can flirt with you and want you dead.” 

Sabina snorted as she walked in, and it made Elena slump back into the couch. 

“Where’s he headed?” Jane asked, remaining standing with her arms crossed across her chest. 

“Istanbul.”

“You know Istanbul was Constantinople. But that’s nobody’s business but the turks.” Elena was the only one who laughed at Sabina’s quip. 

Now they had a place, a person, a plan. “Wheels up in 30.”

The plan, however, did involve a 5 hour flight. 

While they were supposed to be in Brazil, 10,000 miles south, they were lucky enough that Bosley had a few favors to cash in on. A few that had discretion.

Jane spent the time as she usually did, going over the files for the mission on the tablet before they were deleted from existence, for safety reasons. Sabina was more of the spontaneous type, either playing games on her phone, or exploring the local television whenever the network picked up a new Netflix region. 

For Elena, this was new. Not the flying, but this life. Jumping on a plane to somewhere she’d never been. While there was obviously the threat on her life, the assasination conspiracy, and the threat of a technological takeover — there was something about the combination of flying over old Europe and the slightly possessive way Rebekah’s hand rested on her bare thigh that made her forget about those extenuating circumstances. At least until they landed. 

Her eyes pulled away from the window for a moment, eyes finding Bosley and for a minute, thought about how the view was so much better than out the window. 

“Hey,” Elena said softly, reaching to brush blonde hair away from her face, letting her fingers linger when she tucked in behind her ear. 

Rebekah looked up, her stoic expression cracking for a moment. She still looked regal, and calm, but there was a peek in her eyes. A fond expression that made Elena forget her reason for speaking for a moment. “I wanted to say thank you.” This made confusion spread across Rebekah’s face, placing her tablet on the seat next to her. 

“Thank you?” 

“Yeah.” Elena replies, as if the why were obvious. 

“Okay, I’ll bite. Thank you for what?” 

Honey eyes brighten with a smile, and for a moment, the plane around them disappears. It’s just them, and the sunlight streaming through. Elena presses a kiss that lets Bosley forget about the world for just a second. The softness, the sweetness, is too dreamlike to let her settle in any sort of reality. 

“You take such good care of me.” Those words are quiet, dragging from her lips and barely making their way to Rebekah’s ears. The pride that swells in the woman’s chest is involuntarily, and the way she leans closer makes her sure that there’s some sort of magnet pulling her closer to Elena. “You keep me safe, and warm, and even when I had no idea where in the world you were, I felt you.” Before Rebekah really processes it, Elena’s lips are against her ear, and her hands are dragging away the blonde strands that veil between them. “I just want you to know, whatever happens, today, tomorrow — I feel you.” Her hand blindly drops, finding Rebekah’s hand and bringing it to her chest, letting it rest over her heart. It was an intimate moment, one fueled by new love and a little bit of fear. 

Those soft beats, muffled only slightly by clothing and skin, let Bosley’s shoulders relax for the first time in a while. And when her head drops to Elena’s shoulder, she realizes how tired she is. “Again, perfect.” She’s reminded of their first date, and the thought makes her smile. 

“Not perfect, just maybe a little perfect for you.” 

There’s not enough time for sleep, but there’s enough time for her to settle in Elena’s arms, shifting their positions so Elena could lean against the wall of the plane, and Rebekah could settle between her legs along the bench. 

There were plenty of things that Elena didn’t know about — couldn’t know about, swirling through Rebekah’s mind. They certainly didn’t know everything about each other. But they both knew that this is exactly where they were meant to be, at least, in that moment. 

Once they landed, things moved quickly. Finding the safehouse, a contact, and a brand new plan. For Elena, once they’d followed through with Jane’s contact, it felt like years. Being the only one actually connected to Flemming, it made sense to stay put. But there was a part of her that really didn’t want to feel like the damsel, or the victim. She wanted to be out there, proving herself to them. Even if she barely had any idea what she was doing. 


	4. jasmine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got this chapter done! I did have to edit the rating due to some slightly nsfw content. 
> 
> Side note that comments are the way to my entire heart. Thanks for clickin'!

The thing about ‘relaxing’? Elena can’t really do it. Not usually, and especially not now. She’s read the same line in the magazine about a zillion times, and she feels like a zoo animal. The brunette shakes out her fingers, giving up on reading as she looks out at the view. 

What was her life? Really? What the hell?

She hadn’t had a single moment to think. Until right about now. And it’s almost enough to give her a full on anxiety attack, because it rushes in quickly. “Okay, no. Nope. Nope.” Her hands run over her face as she goes to walk back inside. 

Her fingers crave a keyboard under them, or papers with impossible problems that she can solve. But she has neither. And she’s realizing that she’s so far from home. That she’s working with a spy organization. That the woman she was fawning over, that she was clinging to, was someone she’d met less than 2 weeks ago. 

She needed a drink. 

So she got herself one. Because there was nothing else to do. But her fingers are playing over the glass, long enough for the ice to melt. 

Was it really that short of a time? Her mind wanders to it all, and she knows it happened in such a rush. And really, if things were normal, she would’ve liked to go slow. She wasn’t even planning on using the safe house. Even if Rebekah’s texts, late at night, made it seem like heaven. But when she’d come up from almost dying — with water coming up with all the pieces of herself that had pushed up from her stomach, and had seen the woman — well, something had definitely snapped inside her. Because nothing felt safe, nothing felt real. And when the woman had laid her down and pulled her broken pieces back into some semblance of a person — well, Elena wanted to focus on that. But now, there were no sultry blue eyes to pull her away from reality. 

Even when she brings the watered down liquor to her lips, and winces at the sting to her throat, she can’t help but admit that there’s a connection there. Something that came from the way they’d spent all night talking. The touches they’d shared. There was something, even from that first look. 

  
Wasn’t there? 

Insecurities are funneling clearly into the parts of her that were overwhelmed with thoughts of the fact that people want her dead, and the world is very close to being taken over by a technological weapon. It’s like a comic book. A really terrifying comic book. 

She suddenly felt incredibly childish. Especially because all she wanted at that moment was the woman wrapped back around her. She wanted to talk about mosquitos again. She wanted to be back in that museum. She wanted to forget that there was a floor under her. Rebekah seemed to feel the same way. Even on the plane, she seemed — _ entranced. _ Interested, at the very least. But the age difference was nagging at Elena. Not because of anything superficial. Mostly, in fact, because the woman was an international spy, with years of experience, and a beauty like a Hollywood actress. She’d seen so much more than Elena. She’d felt more than Elena. So what if this wasn’t like pure sunshine for her? What if it was like a flickering light? 

And Jane, and Sabina? What did they think of her? Did they think she was just some ridiculous girl in love? Following after Bosley like a sick puppy? She wasn’t that. She  _ wasn’t. _ Elena was soft, and sweet. She was kind, to a fault. But she wasn’t a child. Her fingers tug off the jacket around her shoulders, laying it over the side of the couch, ignoring how she missed the scent of jasmine almost immediately. 

She goes through almost every drawer in the safehouse, finding a pen, and then, a little while later, an old notebook, with nothing written inside, and the remnants of ripped pages coloring the binding. And she thinks of everything but Rebekah. 

Elena writes everything she knows about Flemming. She writes the code to disable Callisto, and turn it into a false flag, to make it seem like it’s an attack. That could give them time to get away, without hurting anyone. She writes down facts, and figures, and gets lost in the numbers. And it’s only when her letters are spilling off of the pages, and onto the back cover that she hears the sound of entry. 

The girl tenses, feeling her eyes close. 

And then, there’s jasmine. 

But it’s less comforting now. And that makes her heart hurt a little. Because she wanted that comfort, that blind, ridiculous comfort. Especially as pale fingers are pressing into her shoulders, and she can make out a couple words against the shell of her ear. 

“Writing the next great American novel?”

Her heart does that thing again. The move, the fight, like it’s trying to break through her chest. Because she almost forgot how her voice sounded, in all her pushing, her burying. It’s like sugar, and it’s trying to fall past her lips and dissolve on her tongue, but she keeps her mouth pursed. At least metaphorically. 

She’s swallowing, and she’s realizing she’s been silent, and still. “No.” She says, and she hates how quiet she sounds. Elena hates how she’s not leaning away. 

Obviously, from whatever movies Elena had seen, and just knowing her, even for a short time, she knew that the woman probably had some idea about body language. And that would probably matter if Elena wasn’t transparent. It would also, probably matter, if the woman hadn’t been memorizing her reactions, if Elena hadn’t gone through the full spectrum of emotions when she’d sat with Rebekah’s hand in hers, and told her about her life. About her pain. Her joy. Her dreams.

Her chest aches, at the thought of her giving that away to someone, who might not feel the same. 

When she feels Rebekah’s hands pull away, she’s pushing up, and she’s not meeting her eyes when she forces a smile, and says, too quickly. “I need to shower. I’ll catch up after.” 

And she almost makes it. 

That’s a lie. She has the stride of a tree squirrel, and Bosley has the instincts of an assassin. Catching Elena’s arm was nothing. 

The blonde has to remember to loosen her grip after it touches Elena’s skin, even if there’s an anxiety rising in her chest that feels foriegn. 

“Elena.” 

God, did her name sound like that on anyone else’s lips? Elena didn’t think so. But she couldn’t look at her. She didn’t want to see if she was right. 

“Yes?” Her eyes are on the desk, on the scribbles that can barely be read right up close, let alone at her current distance. 

“Is something wrong?” Rebekah’s voice is low, and careful. 

“Nope.”

Rebekah’s eyes flicker around the safehouse, looking for signs of a struggle. Of someone waiting behind the curtains. Of a gun to someone’s head. But there was nothing. Just Elena, acting like a wholly different person. 

“Did something happen while we were gone?” 

Elena doesn’t even answer now. She just shakes her head, and now her lips are pursuing for real, because her cheeks feel hot, and her eyes feel heavy with tears that are not helping her prove she’s less of a child. 

And when a single, lithe finger dips under her chin, and makes her look up, Rebekah sees them. And she feels, really, truly, feels, without the metaphor, her heart tearing in two. “Elena?” Her words _ sound _ scared now. They’re not practiced, or confident. They’re confused, they’re scared. 

But Elena doesn’t hold her gaze. It flickers over to Sabina and Jane across the way, to the way they look down quickly when she meets their very conspicuous look. She presses a breath through flared nostrils, and her feet move her to the closest exit. The air that hits her face chills her to the bone, but it’s good. It’s grounding. It’s a bite to keep her from completely losing it. 

Rebekah’s following her, she knows it, even before the door opens, and she’s rubbing her fingers under her eyes, and desperately trying to force back the tears. 

“Elena, I need you to tell me what happened. I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know what happened.” That sounds like Bosley, not Rebekah. Like something scripted. 

“Nothing happened.” Her words are  _ so  _ shaky, and she hates the way they fall from her lips. 

“Something _ obviously _ happened.” There’s a bite. And Elena wants to savor it. Because it would be so much easier if Rebekah wasn’t so careful, so sweet, so adoring. If she was some horrible person, who Elena could walk away from. But she wasn’t. And that’s what made this so hard. Because she made Elena feel like she was walking on air. Like her entire sky began and ended in warm blue eyes. 

She’s too far gone to react when Rebekah turns her in place, and she’s forced to look up into her eyes. Elena’s never been good at burying. Not with imaginary treasure, or company secrets, or her feelings. And she feels the tears falling down her cheeks, chilled by the air outside, the breeze that lifted among the humidity of Istanbul. Her big, ridiculous, doe eyes are under furrowed eyebrows as she shakes her head and her words come out in a scattered breath. “I have _ no idea _ what I’m doing.” 

Arms are coming around her, ready to fix everything, ready to make her forget, but she steps back as her nose wrinkles, her face scrunches up with the effort not to cry, and instead of Rebekah’s, her arms are wrapping around herself. “I don’t know what I’m doing  _ here. _ ” The startled look in Rebekah’s eyes feels like a punch to the gut. “I —” She’s swallowing again, and it almost tastes like metal. She releases her cheek from between her teeth. “I need some time to think. Okay?” 

The nod Rebekah gives her in response is dull. Almost numb. And she can see the beginnings of it coming over her face. The carefully sculpted Bosley, forming before her eyes, even though those baby blues are staring right through her with enough affection that it felt like a train. Her eyes close, tightly, and then her hands are coming up to rub across her eyes, trying not to ruin anymore of the mascara than she already had. “We should debrief. I’ll shower after.” And then she’s walking past Rebekah, back inside, and she swears she saw the woman’s hand twitch when she passed. 

When she sits down, she can feel confused eyes on her. Especially when they see Bosley, with a blank expression on her face. Sabina cracks a joke, but no one laughs. 

Rebekah starts speaking, and there’s no trace of what Elena saw behind her eyes. Business, as usual. Does that make it better or worse? Sabina and Jane’s eyes are off her, and her eyes are staring down at the table as she listens intently. And there’s a gnawing in her chest. A gnawing that is settled on top of all the anxiety she’d worked herself up with, and before she knows it, she’s standing up. “I wanna help.”

The look Sabina and Jane give her is comical. “Look,” Her eyes find Rebekah’s, and she can hold the gaze now. “I’m not just some frightened girl in your witness protection program.” And Bosley is sitting back, face still calm, and collected. “If you need help getting in and out of someplace, I can do it. I can hack any system, and I can do it _ fast _ .” Her gaze is going between Rebekah and Jane, and Sabina, but they settle on Rebekah. “And don’t tell me I can’t do it. Because I _ can _ .” 

There’s a long beat of silence. And she hears Bosley’s voice. “As adorable as that was.” Her eyes flicker with something, even as Elena’s face remains pursed with determination, and maybe a little bit of anger at being called adorable. Even if it was Rebekah. “It’s kind of implied that you’re coming, because you’re in this briefing.” 

Jane’s accent is making her look over, and she’s feeling warmth rush to her cheeks. “She gave you the universal hacking tool, and the bracelet, right?” 

  
Her eyes are falling to the bracelet on her wrist, and _ wow _ , there’s some fresh embarrassment there. “Mmhm...yeah.” 

Hazel eyes are on her too, and she almost wants to laugh at what Sabina says. “But how did that feel, because it looked like it felt, **really good.** ” 

She stares blankly for a second, gaining her composure back. “Felt nice.” She says, before falling back into her seat. 

“I was just going to pass the tablet once I was done…”

Her knees are curling up to her chest after she takes the tablet from Jane, and her eyes remain on it, her brain finally finding something concrete to focus on. 

She’s still reading it, after they’re done, and it’s getting dark. And she’s keenly aware that while Sabina and Jane have left, Rebekah is still there, watching her. 

It’s a good while before she looks up. But she can’t stop herself. And she immediately wishes she had when blue eyes spear through her. And she’s thinking of her things strewn over the room that they’d decided to share that morning. She’s thinking how she’d adjusted Rebekah’s scarf around her head before they’d left, and of how softly the woman had kissed her. 

There’s guilt now, mixed with the fear. It doesn’t feel nice. 

Rebekah doesn’t speak. Does she even blink? Had Elena seen her blink  _ ever _ ? She must have…

Her fingers shakily press down the tablet on the table, eyes flickering to the open room beside them, looking for signs of prying eyes. But she doesn’t find them. Her eyes go to her now empty hands as they run over each other, picking at fingernails and knuckles. “I’m sorry.” 

There’s a long moment, a terrifying moment, before Rebekah speaks, in that soothing, practiced tone of hers. “For?” 

Elena’s head drops, and her hands are running through stray brown curls that fell out of her ponytail. She doesn’t have an answer. And she feels so incredibly empty. She’s pushing up before giving her body permission, and she’s sitting next to Rebekah now, her hands resting tucked under her thighs. “I’m scared.” 

Another beat. “That’s normal. This isn’t an easy job.” 

That makes Elena laugh, and she’s glad she can’t see the confused look Rebekah must be giving her. “Not about Callisto. Even Flemming. At least, that’s not the biggest thing.” Her head shakes at herself. “Which sounds, really, really stupid, when I say it out loud, because someone’s trying to kill me, and I’m sitting here agonizing over —” She stops herself, and in the silence she hears Rebekah shift in her seat, and she’s looking over at her. Even in the moonlight, she looked beautiful. Even more so, even. The way it fell over her sharp cheekbones, how it lit up her eyes. “Rebekah.” She tries not to sound shaken, tries to have some semblance of maturity, or at least, what she thought of as maturity. “I really, really like you. And I know that sounds juvenile. But I do. That’s all the words I have for it right now. And whatever we have, whatever we were making before,” She’s watching her face relax, and she almost misses the blank slate. “I just. I  _ can’t _ get into a position, especially with all this, where all I can think about, is what comes after.” Her brown eyes flicker over Rebekah’s face. “If there’s nothing for us after, that’s okay. It is. I can handle it, I’m an adult. But I need to know now, before..” _ Before I fall for you. Before I can’t imagine breathing without you.  _ “I’m not a scared little girl. I promise. I won’t break.” 

She expects a clean break. Because that’s all she can really imagine. Not what happens. Not Rebekah’s fingers pressing into her cheeks, nails catching her jaw, not the woman’s lips on hers, not the feeling of fabric bunched up in her own hands because she despretely needs something to hold onto because  _ holy fuck  _ no one has ever kissed her like this. 

Who needed oxygen? Apparently, her, because she’s gasping when Rebekah’s pulled back, and she’s so keenly aware of her staring down at her, of the intensity in those eyes. Her chest is rising, and falling too quickly, and she’s sure her entire face is painted with just how much Rebekah affects her. The hands on her cheeks are softening, and she feels the pads of careful fingers running along her skin. Her eyes are fluttering, trying to close, trying to give herself the calm she’s needed for a long time. But she can’t. Because that’s _ not _ an  **answer.**

“Elena.” The brunette’s heart skips a beat. “For someone so smart, you can be  _ so  _ dumb.” She would be offended by that, if she wasn’t getting drunk off the way Bosley was looking at her. “You are not some damsel in distress. I know that. I’ve  _ known _ that. That’s why you’re here, and not in some memory wiping faci-”

“There’s memory wiping? Like in Men in- right, not the point. Continue.” 

“I can’t promise a lot of things, in my line of work Elena. I can’t promise where I’ll be at any given time. I can’t promise that I won’t get hurt. I definitely can’t promise you won’t get hurt, because you are one of the most stubborn women I’ve ever met.” Her fingers brush strands of brown hair behind Elena’s ear. “But, I can promise that I’m not going to let you go anytime soon.” Has any shade of blue ever been more beautiful? Or was it just the fact that this is the best case scenario, out of so many Elena had agonized over all day. 

“I want to go to Nice with you. I want to sit on the Riviera in a ridiculously small bikini, and drink until we can’t walk. I want to take you everywhere with me. I want you so much. So much that it drives me a little insane, that some, sweet, perfect girl in a bar turned me inside out.” 

The cinders Rebekah left behind in Elena’s ribs were burning now, but she can’t taste the smoke. It’s like a hickory fire as it spreads through her bones, and settles on her lips, sweet, and comforting. “I want that too.” That’s the worst reply, in the whole world. But the way it lights up Bosley’s eyes — Elena’s okay with it, even if her words are soft, and small.

There’s a few more kisses. They’re soft, and they taste of honey. Or maybe that’s just because of how sweet they are. And Elena’s entire world is _ jasmine _ . 

And it continues to be, until she’s being tugged off the couch, and she’s following blindly. The sound of the water hitting the shower floor pulls her out of her daze, and her polka dot blouse is being slipped off of her shoulders for her. A shower sounded wonderful. Water to wash away today, to wash off the salty streaks, dried invisible on her cheeks. She manages a button on that pretty pink dress before she watches it fall to the floor, and brown is finding blue like that’s all they were ever meant to do. 

She’s stepping in first, and the steam envelops her like a hug, and she’s letting out a shaky breath of relief as she finally lets her mind rest. She lets herself breathe, as she feels kisses peppered across her shoulders. Her eyes fall closed as hands splay out over her stomach like she was the most precious thing ever created. And she almost lets her knees give out when she feels her back pressed against cool tile, and sees a streak of blonde across her vision. But she’s biting at the sore spot inside of her cheek again, and she’s moving without thinking, when she catches the smooth indents of Rebekah’s hips and presses her against the wall. 

She wanted her. Rebekah wanted _ her _ . She’d told her as much, with the most beautiful words. And Elena didn’t have those, at least right now, in the middle of the storm they both were involved in. But she did have soft lips, and nimble fingers, and adoration in her eyes. She relishes in the surprise in the blonde’s eyes, and a smile finally quirks on her lips, the first for what felt like days. 

  
Elena doesn’t say a thing, as her lips press against Rebekah’s cheek, and curve against the line of her jaw. She speaks with the way her fingers twine with the other woman’s, as Rebekah’s hand catches her shoulder when she finds the sweetest spot along the column of her neck. Her own hand splays out across Bosley’s sternum, and she can almost feel her racing heart. 

Her lips find their own path across the line of the woman’s collarbone, against the curve of her shoulder, along the valley of her chest. The smooth lines of her stomach feel like home, and she’s letting go of Rebekah’s hand to guide it to rest on her hair, as her kisses nuzzle into the lines of her waist. 

And she’s never felt more wanted, than when she feels fingers tangle up in her hair like they had no intention of ever letting go. And she’s so close to forgetting about the whole world until— 

“Hey Bos -  _ Oh my god _ .” Elena looks over, just in time to see Sabina cover her eyes and run squarely into the door that she’s holding onto. “I’m — wow, _ okay _ . Later’s good. Yep.” She stumbles back with a slam to the door, and they can vaguely hear the sound of running steps. 

Elena dissolves into giggles, and red cheeks, and the only thing that keeps her from falling is Rebekah pulling her up back against her, and Elena’s arms are winding around her neck, for support. For sure, only for support.

“I swear, it’s like having kids.” Rebekah lets out, in an exasperated breath, her jaw set with frustration even as her forehead rests against Elena’s. 

Elena hums as she presses closer, letting out another laugh before she presses a soft kiss to the woman’s lips. “If it makes you feel better, maybe she’ll learn to knock?” 

For that, Rebekah’s fingers reach out and turn the shower ice cold, and Elena’s shriek of surprise is muddled with laughter, as Rebekah pulls her into a kiss that warms her entire body. 

* * *

“Oh  _ g-god _ . Yes, baby yes—  _ baby _ .  **_Right there._ ** _ Please, please, please, _ ” The click of the headboard against the other wall fills the entire safehouse, and the squeaks of a wood frame squeal throughout. There’s a particularly loud one, and then, “ **_Beka!_ ** ” 

Sabina grabs at a pillow, pulling it over her head. Thin walls.  _ Such  _ thin walls. This was going to be such a long mission. Jane was smart enough to get the room at the entire other end of the courtyard. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how Sabina ended up sleeping on Jane’s floor. And then, eventually, her bed. But that’s a story for another time. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for guns, explosions, and a little bit of near death. Pretty close to canon except for a few changes! Hope ya'll enjoy

Rebekah feels uncharacteristically foggy. She can hear the shower as she wakes, and she knows Elena must be in it, and for the first time since they’d arrived, she didn’t follow her in. Her mind is swirling with all the thoughts that were trapped in her mind, and had to stay that way. When she pushes up, she lets her eyes flicker across the sunlight that’s let into the room, stuttering against the floor as it’s cut with the blinds. If she was alone, she would probably have a glass of wine, or one of those ridiculous vegan brownies Saint pushed like they were some kind of miracle. They kind of tasted like cardboard. But she wasn’t alone. And this definitely wasn’t the time to go back to feeling helpless, or to make Elena feel like she couldn’t do this. Rebekah knew she could. She knew Elena could do much more than she even knew. So she’s nudging all of it back into the clean, carefully packed boxes in her mind, and the morning starts. 

When she unzips the uniform she’d picked for today, robin egg blue assaults her senses, and she’s feeling a little better about everything. 

They’re almost ready, an hour later, and Rebekah’s eyes flicker up from her tablet to see Elena straightening her green dress. It shouldn’t look so good on her. The wig will help her blend in with the crowd, but now, with dark brown curls falling over her shoulders, she just looks beautiful. “Elena.” The girl’s attention is drawn away from whatever she’s talking about with Sabina, and Rebekah notices how the girl’s tan cheeks are streaked with red. Interesting, for sure, but not pertinent right now. 

Her head nods towards the armory, and Elena follows her. 

...

“This would be a very bad time to get lost in here, Beka.” That draws a smile from Rebekah, as she shakes her head, opening one of the drawers. 

“As great of a dumb idea as that sounds, I have something for you.” She nods towards one of the chairs between the artillery lockers. “Sit for me.” 

And Elena does, of course, even if she’s wondering what exactly Bosley would have for her in here. And when the woman is kneeling in front of her, she’s so incredibly confused. “I thought you said—” But the click of a buckle draws her eyes down, and the touches to her thigh make sense. At least, that she was doing something, definitely non sexual. But she didn’t exactly know what. “Beka?”

But Rebekah’s already up, and she’s gesturing for Elena to stand up. 

“Do you always act so mysterious?” Her teasing words, plagued with some nervous energy, are cut off when her vision is filled with the glint of metal. A gun. An actual, honest to God  _ gun _ , hanging by Bosley’s finger by its handle. 

“Take it.”

“I don’t— Beka, I don’t know how to. You know that.” 

The blonde nods, and there’s seriousness there. “I know. And that’s why I’m going to show you.”

  
  
  


Elena’s fingers reach out tentatively for the weapon, like it could go off from the wrong touch, like the metal would burn her. She’s surprised, when the weight settles in her hand, that it’s light. It’s small, even in her hand, as her fingers curl around the notches meant for them. It kind of looks like a gun from an old western, with it’s round barrel. She still doesn’t like it. 

She almost jumps when she feels Rebekah’s hands on her elbows, realizing the woman had moved behind her. “Up. Like this.” 

Her eyes shut, for a second, trying to rationalize this. Because she doesn’t like guns. She really, really doesn’t like them. She started all this because she didn’t want people to get hurt. But this is the reality now. The reality that includes people wanting her dead, and Rebekah just trying to keep her safe. So she listens, and focuses on Rebekah’s touch as her fingers grasp around the handle and point down the hallway. Lithe fingers are adjusting her grip, gentle as they do, pulling away with a squeeze once she’s in the right position. Her fingertip brushes over the small curved metal along the top. “This is the only thing keeping it from firing. You only press that when you intend to shoot. You understand?”

Her nod comes after a small second, and her arms start to fall. “No. I need to see that you can do this.” Rebekah’s eyes flicker around the room. “There. That pillow.”

“This seems like a bad idea.”    
  


“It’s a pillow.” 

“We’re also inside.”

“ _ Elena _ .” 

There’s hesitation, hanging in the air. It feels wrong in her hands, and Rebekah feels different behind her. Until the blonde’s hands curl softly against her arms, with that sweet, careful touch, and she feels the woman’s lips brush her shoulder. “I don’t want you out there. I want you here, locked in a safehouse, where nothing can touch you. But I can’t have that. So I need to know, that if I can’t be there, that you’ll be safe.” Her breath feels warm against Elena’s shoulder, even through her blouse. “Believe me. I don’t like the idea of a gun in your hands, anymore than you do.” 

Elena only hesitates for one more moment before she raises her thumb and carefully pulls down the metal. She focuses on the hands that have moved to rest on her hips. Focuses on the sound of Rebekah’s breathing. And when her finger pulls on the trigger, the sound still shakes her to her core. Her shot isn’t centered, but it hit the pillow, and there’s a flurry of sequins and fluff. 

They are silent for what feels like a long time, until Rebekah breaks the silence. “Okay.” And her fingers are in Elena’s view again, showing her how to put the safety back on, and carefully removing it from Elena’s fingers. It’s only when her hands are empty that Elena realizes she’s shaking. Because it’s real again. Painfully real. And then Rebekah’s in front of her again, setting the gun down carefully on the table before her hands find Elena’s cheeks. 

And Elena’s taking a deep breath, and looking into blue eyes, and making herself feel grounded. “Okay.”

She expects to be pulled into a kiss, or to be swept off her feet. What she doesn’t expect is Rebekah’s arms wrapping around her in a hug. 

And she thinks that yeah. Hugs do work. 

It feels like it lasts for days and seconds, all at once, before Bosley’s showing her how to tuck the gun into the holster and hide it under her bright green dress. 

And this is all really happening. 

It’s all really happening. It’s all a blur of running in heels, and pulling Sabina into the ambulance, and slamming some would be henchman’s head into a printer. It’s the breathless, terror of almost having to watch Sabina fall into a mess of crushing rock. It’s calling out for Jane and watching the girl come save the day. It is especially the feeling of relief making her laugh out in a way that’s too giddy, especially with a man walking towards her with a gun.

After that, it’s mostly unconsciousness, because she tranq’d herself. 

There’s pressure on her cheek, and when she opens her eyes, the dull rocking of her stomach, and the strong smell of salt makes her all but grunt out the words. “Are we on a boat?” Her fingers find purchase on Sabina’s arm, and she’s holding on tightly. The nausea that seems to be soaking her bones doesn’t bode well with the rocking, and she’s just pinching her eyes shut, and trying not to sink back into sleep.

“ _ Yeah. _ ” Is the only response she gets. But Sabina’s holding her arm too. And Jane is there. They’re all there. They’re okay. They’re  **together.**

When they come back to an empty safe house, she almost wishes she had stayed asleep. That she could wake up, and this would all be over. 

“Do Bosley’s usually leave?” She’s fully aware now, and her eyebrows are knotting together as she turns to Jane, seeing Sabina look for Bosley out of the corner of her eye. 

“No, this is all wrong.” Oh,  _ fantastic _ . Elena’s heart just rises higher in her throat, and she’s trying, desperately to make sense of this. 

“So-” Elena keeps her voice even. She forces it to be. “She’s _ gone _ ?”

“Well we were made. So maybe she wanted to do a sweep.” Jane doesn’t sound convinced. 

Elena’s mind is whirling. And when she hears Sabina — she’s implying. No. She’s  _ insisting _ that Bosley isn’t on their side anymore. That this was part of her plan. That they were **pawns** . The look on Jane’s face — she agrees. Reluctantly, but Elena can see the gears working. 

And Elena feels two, very clear things. She feels a fiery anger flare up in her, licking at her wounds, burning her from the inside out. Because how **dare** they talk about her like that. How dare they think that of her. 

And then, she feels scared.

Because these three were supposed to be her constants. She was supposed to be okay, because they were a _ team _ . Because what if they were right? Everything is gone. Callisto, Flemming, and Bosley.

She wants to scream. She wants to cry. She wants  _ answers _ . 

And then the phone is ringing in their room, and Elena has never moved so quickly. She thinks, it’s going to be Rebekah. She’s going to tell us to meet her at a safe location. She’s okay. She’s with us. 

_ But it’s not.  _

“Charlie sends love. You’re in grave danger. Get out of there,  _ now. _ ” 

And then everything is in slow motion. Everything, as she watches Jane and Sabina’s bodies be thrown across the courtyard. As the explosion crumbles everything around her to dust. 

Then there’s just the ringing. Just the red hot, searing in her ears, like they’re being shaved out of her head. She’s stumbling, forward, feeling her ankles try and give way beneath her, and later, the scene of fire, and broken windows, and crumbling buildings would be branded in her memory. But now she can barely breathe. She can barely see, and she feels everything give way under her and feels her hands scrape against rough, broken rock. 

She wonders if the pain in her head, the way her brain feels like it’s breaking out of her skull is going to kill her. 

She had to get up. Elena. Get up. “ _ Elena, stay down _ .” 

_ What?  _ The words feel far away, but Elena knows, even through her haze that they weren’t in her head. 

It was Rebekah. With a gun in her hand. Pointed at her. But she’s saying her name. She’s calling her. She’s here. And then, Elena’s entire world falls apart, as the sound of two, clear shots ring through her ears and make her head feel like it’s going to explode.

_ No.  _

**No.**

She doesn’t look at the source of the shot, she doesn’t breathe, she doesn’t do anything but stumble on ruined legs towards Rebekah, who is lying lifeless on the concrete. _ No. _ Elena thinks, as the threads of her heart threaten to shatter, and break. This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t be lifeless. She  _ couldn’t _ be. 

Elena lets out a rough grunt as she’s pulled back by her arm, and she sees white skin, and beady eyes, and he’s saying, “I’m Bosley.” He’s looking at her like he’s helping her. And all she can see is red. 

She is weak. She is broken. She is in more pain than she thought humanly possible. But she was not going to leave Rebekah here. 

Her foot kicks out, with all her strength, landing on the man’s knee, and she’s barely able to keep from crawling to Rebekah, trying to keep herself upright. And she can hear him behind her, recovering so much quicker than she could. And she remembers. Shaky, bloody hands reach to her leg, and she’s spinning so fast that her vision goes black for a second. But she’s pointing the gun at him. She’s breathing like she’d been drowning, and it felt like she was underwater. 

“Elena, I’m here to  **help** you.” He seems calm, but there’s something in his eyes. Elena recognizes it. It’s the same look she saw in Flemming’s eyes. That arrogance. That pride. The look of a man who wants to see the world burn. Her eyes flicker to the burning building beside them, and she feels her entire soul scream because she is completely, and utterly alone. 

He’s getting closer. And his smile? It’s fading, coated with the shadows of the still burrowing flames.

“She was going to shoot you, Elena.” Her mind is picking up his words clearer now, even as she can feel her ankles about to snap under her. 

“She w-would  _ never _ shoot me.” Her voice doesn’t sound like her own, full of all the soot and mortar that’d burned down her throat masquerading as oxygen. It takes one, quick jerk of Bosley moving towards her - and then, her thumb is pressing down on the safety, and she hears the shot before she even registers her finger pressing down on the trigger. 

Elena watches it make impact with his shoulder, watches him crumble, and the gun is dropping from her hand, letting off another shot that breaks a window in the distance. Her shaking, utterly ruined body is frozen, for just a moment. And then she’s turning, and she’s crumbling, looking at blonde hair splayed over the concrete, at her still form. 

“No, no,  _ no _ .” Her hands go to the woman’s shirt, ripping it open, and her mind is going a million miles a minute, trying to catch up, trying to think clearly, on stitching methods and blood loss and —

There’s no blood. There’s  _ no _ wounds. There’s shimmering white cloth. There’s the weak rise and fall of her chest, and she’s alive. _ She’s alive _ . 

“Rebekah,  **_wake up._ ** _ Please wake up. _ .” Her hands are grabbing at the woman’s shoulders, shaking her, trying to make her come back, because she’s alive and she better  _ act _ like it. 

A gasp of air makes the woman arch off the concrete, and Elena only realizes she’s crying when she sees murky black and red tears land on Rebekah’s skin. The woman’s eyes go wide with terror when she sees her, and Elena is sure she looks like a ghost, or the living dead, and Elena wants so desperately to fall apart because nothing is okay. But she can’t. Not yet. 

The sound of grunting behind her, the sound of far off sirens, and the knowledge that Bosley couldn’t have acted alone takes over her entire body, pressing out the last few drops of adrenaline she could manage.

“ _ We have to go _ .” Elena’s grabbing whatever part of her she can reach as she struggles to get to her feet, and Rebekah is wordlessly pushing up on a quivering hand, and they run. They run until the fire is far enough away that the sprinkles of ash stop dusting their hair. They run until Elena can’t anymore, and there’s ash stained bile on the floor, coating her lips. 


End file.
